She'll Have That Boy Over My Dead Body
by CaptainPolaris
Summary: With everyone in Storybrooke against her, Regina decides to make one last turnover.


Regina Mills sat alone. She couldn't bear to think of the cruel hand Fate had dealt her. One minute Emma was on her side, defending her from the false accusations of her parents, and the next moment Regina found herself in the sheriff s department, her mind reeling. Not once did anyone care enough to take the time to ask her about her side of the story. Earlier that day she had seen Emma pull Henry aside at the bus stop, and she remembered how her heart had clenched at the sight of her son with the Savior. All of the progress she had made with Henry had crumbled in the span of his embrace with his biological mother.

Regina had cried alone in her car. The tears stole what little appetite she had from her, and kept her company that night.

In the early hours of the morning it finally hit her; the fact that while she was dedicated to redeeming herself, no one else was interested in believing she could change. Even Emma, who had briefly championed her, had eventually sided with her parents.

What stung the most was the hypocrisy of it all.

The oven timer took up its tinny beeping, and Regina made her way into the kitchen. She carefully opened the wide oven door and removed the cookie sheet from the rack. Resting in the center of the tray was a single apple turnover. Warm steam wafted up from the flaky pastry, reminding Regina of Henry. It had been a habit of hers to share a turnover and comic book with her son whenever the weather took a turn for the worse. Henry had never been as enthusiastic as she had been, and while their relationship back then was less than ideal, it was more than she could even hope for now.

She slid the pastry onto a small plate and left the kitchen. The large mirror in the living room caught her reflection as she paused to open the back door before slipping into the quiet of the garden. The apple tree she had been so careful to protect stood proudly in the middle of the spacious lawn, its beautiful fruit the color of blood.

_Blood_.

Henry was not hers by blood, but he was her son. She had been the one to hold him in the night when he was colicky, and the one to soothe his fevers with cool kisses. Hadn't she named him for her own father, the one person she loved the most?

And now Henry was never coming home.

Regina sat on the wooden bench beneath the apple tree and stared out at the garden around her. She had done her best to raise her son, and while it might not have been much, it was more than Emma would have been capable of. _Henry's childhood certainly had been better than her own childhood that was for damn sure._ At this point she was more than willing to share custody of Henry with Emma, in attempt to keep their relationship alive. Henry had asked her to change, and she would, for him.

She would do anything for him.

Somewhere in the distance a lone dove called out into the breeze, waking Regina from her reverie. She glanced down at the plate resting on her knees and placed a tentative hand to the turnover. Folded deep within the gooey slices of apple was a forgotten potion Regina had discovered stashed away in a dusty trunk. Though the potion was simple, it was powerful, and its effects were permanent. Fatal, even.

Regina looked around her one last time and let out a shaky breath. She had come this far already. She could do this. She _had_ to do this. What else was there left for her in Storybrooke? Her son had abandoned her, and the woman she had dared to hope of rebuilding a connection with was disgusted. It would only take a single bite, much like the one Henry had taken that was intended for Emma, and all of her heartache and suffering would be over at last.

Taking a deep breath, Regina carefully picked up the apple turnover and brought it to her lips. This was it. The Charmings had finally won. Her death would be their happy ending, no doubt. She could imagine the festivities that would take place at Granny's and the celebratory cheers that would follow a round of cinnamon-topped cocoa.

She brushed her teeth against the golden crust of the pastry and closed her eyes. The dove called out once more before taking wing, leaving its perch for a change of scenery.

Regina took a bite, and thought of Henry.


End file.
